


Establishing Dominance

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Banter, Dom/sub Play, Hair-pulling, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of The Last Dam Job, Quinn is determined to have the final say on his last night with Eliot.  Follows the events of "Wrap Party".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Establishing Dominance

In the privacy of his own head, Eliot could admit that he wasn’t surprised to find Quinn seated on his bed when he finished his shower. “Little obvious, don’t you think?” he asked, smirking as he gestured at the towel Quinn had slung low across his hips.

The other hitter shrugged, clearly unconcerned with whatever Eliot thought of his choice of covering. “I was thinking,” he said, studying his fingers in a calculated way, “fun as that was out there, I might have left you with the wrong idea.”

The air between them was suddenly thick with potential. Eliot felt a nervous tightening low in his gut, and struggled to keep his voice steady when he asked, “How do you mean?”

Quinn’s eyes met his – hard and unyielding – and it was all Eliot could do not to take a step back. “I mean that while I enjoy being the submissive one now and then…and you boys are talented, don’t get me wrong…it would be stupid of me to leave in the morning without balancing things between us.”

Unlike Quinn, Eliot had slipped on an old pair of ragged sweatpants after his shower. They fit him loosely, but not enough to conceal the immediate effect the other hitter’s words had on him. Pale eyes glanced down pointedly, drawing attention to the slight tenting of fabric between Eliot’s legs, before returning to focus on his face again. “Doesn’t look to me like you object.”

Eliot swallowed hard, trying to convince himself that Quinn hadn’t just pushed dozens of his buttons simultaneously. _Skill_ hadn’t beaten Quinn the one and only time they’d fought; only his desperation to get to Nate and the team and warn them had let Eliot walk away from that encounter. He honestly couldn’t say which of them would come out on top if or when they threw down for real.

 _Taken…controlled…physically dominated…_ It was a deeply held fantasy, all the more precious to Eliot because of how impossible it was. He definitely had a kink for men with strong minds and dominating personalities, but Nate – and Damien Moreau before him – could never pretend they were his physical equal.

Quinn, on the other hand – Quinn could do it.

“I got no problems going again if you want,” he said, hitching one shoulder negligently. “Nate seemed to like your mouth; maybe I’ll try that next.”

Quinn slid off the bed, coming gracefully to his feet. Eliot was mildly disappointed to see the towel still clinging to his hips. “Deliberately trying to provoke me?” His voice was low and smooth, and Eliot felt his cock grow even harder while he fought not to give ground. “It’s an interesting strategy.”

 _We’re really going to do this._ “You look good on your knees,” he said, circling slowly back in the direction of the bed as Quinn advanced on him. “You can’t blame me for appreciating your…professionalism.”

The towel finally came free when Quinn closed with him. Eliot dodged his feint and his first legitimate sweep, but the other hitter had height and reach on him. He fought as hard as he dared, but it took a little more than two minutes for Quinn to shove him face-first into the nearest wall; his arm twisted up behind his back almost to the point of breaking, and the other man molded to him.

“I should just strip you down and take you right here.” Quinn’s breath was hot against Eliot’s skin. One hand slid purposefully down his back, under the waistband of his sweats…nails digging into the curve of his ass… “Fuck you up against the wall, so you know your place.”

Eliot tensed, intending to try and throw Quinn off, but before he could move the hitter’s hips pressed forward, pushing Eliot’s erection into the wall with just enough pressure to send a spike of pleasure lancing through his body. He inhaled sharply, trying to drag his reactions back under control, but fine tremors had begun shivering across his back and shoulders.

Worse – Quinn noticed. Eliot knew he would have if their positions had been reversed. “I want to see your face, though,” Quinn went on. He bit Eliot on the back of the neck – a quick, sharp burst of pain that drew a moan from Eliot’s throat. “Want to feel how hard you _squeeze_ when you come on my cock.” The word squeeze was punctuated by the feel of Quinn’s fingers digging into his flesh again.

“You gonna fuck me?” Eliot growled through clenched teeth, “or talk me to death?”

Quinn’s answering laugh was low and dirty, and felt like velvet dragged across his skin. “Oh I’m gonna fuck you, boy. You may not remember your own name when I’m through with you, but you _will_ know that you’ve been fucked and by whom.”

 _Jesus._ Eliot closed his eyes briefly, his mouth suddenly sandpaper dry.

“You’re definitely going to feel this.” Quinn ran a finger between Eliot’s ass cheeks, brushing lightly across the furled skin covering his opening and drawing embarrassing sounds out of Eliot in response. “You forget I had your boss in my throat.” His finger pressed against the thick ring of muscle; Eliot took several deep, shuddering breaths – trying not to think too hard about the implications of what Quinn was saying. “I’m bigger than he is.”

 _Stretched wide…pleasure so intense it was almost painful…Quinn’s hand wrapped around his cock…_ Eliot groaned imagining the possibilities. He pressed his forehead against the wall, trying to control his breathing.

“Like that, huh?” Before Eliot could figure out how to make his brain work well enough to reply, his sweats were jerked past his hips; the fabric fell to the floor to tangle around his ankles. Heat pooled low in his belly; the head of his cock dragged wetly against the wall, leaving a smear of precome. He made a half-hearted attempt at pulling free, but Quinn’s joint lock was brutally effective, and his head was starting to spin with arousal.

Quinn seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Don’t want to tie you up…” he muttered. “That’s too easy.” Eliot felt a feather touch of Quinn’s free hand a moment before the other man wrapped his fist in Eliot’s hair and jerked it tight. The move was like a Taser to Eliot’s nervous system – he stiffened, gasping, his eyes wide and panicked. “I thought as much,” Quinn said, clearly satisfied with his discovery. “You obviously don’t keep company with stupid men.”

Damien had been the one to set the control – Eliot had allowed Nate to strengthen it via hypnosis once they started sharing a bed, since its original purpose was to keep him from lashing out at anyone in reach when he had a nightmare. The fact that Quinn was now exploiting it purely to keep Eliot submissive to him was such a turn-on Eliot was having trouble thinking straight.

His arm was released and rotated carefully back down to his side. “Behave,” Quinn warned – a hint of laughter in his voice.

“Bite me,” Eliot countered breathlessly, using both hands now to brace himself against the wall.

He felt Quinn reach for the nearby dresser, heard him rummaging around in the drawer until he found what he was after. “You were a Boy Scout in a former life, weren’t you?” The hitter relaxed, returning to his previous position. Eliot sensed some more fumbling, then Quinn pressed in close. “You might want to relax a bit.” Before he could think of a comeback, two lube-slick fingers pressed against his opening; Eliot groaned softly as Quinn pushed past the thick ring of muscle and penetrated him. “There we are.”

Quinn wouldn’t let him shift position; standing nearly upright as he’d been, two fingers were almost too much. It was pleasure riding just the right edge of pain – endorphins flooded his system as Quinn stretched him open, and he was starting to make the kind of noises that would have been embarrassing if he’d been in anything close to his right mind.

“Good boy,” Quinn said, slipping his hand free. He tugged gently on Eliot’s hair, urging him to step backwards. “I’ll have to reward you for not being so crass as to try humping the wall.” Eliot still couldn’t figure out how to talk and breathe at the same time, so he was spared having to admit that he’d thought about it – and if Quinn’s control had slipped even for a second, he probably would have done it.

He was turned until they were facing the king size bed. “Now,” Quinn said, kissing his shoulder, “I’m going to let you go so you can lie down. I want you on your back, hands over your head holding onto the headboard.” He bit into the muscle again, hard and sharp – making Eliot shiver. “You want to get cute with me fine; I’ll put you on your knees, fuck you like a whore, and leave you to deal with that little problem between your legs on your own time.” His fist tightened briefly. “Do we understand each other?”

 _Jesus!_ Eliot thought again. He wouldn’t have believed it possible for him to be even more turned on by the man at his back. Out loud though, all he said was “Perfectly.”

He wanted to try something, just to see if Quinn would really back up his threat, but it was all he could do to keep from scrambling up onto the mattress. What little was left of his dignity demanded that he maintain at least that tiny bit of control.

Quinn was stroking his cock when Eliot laid back on the bed, slicking his shaft with more lube. Eliot let himself appreciate the view for several long moments, before the other man glared at him. “Hands over your head,” he reminded Eliot – the hint of a warning growl lacing his voice.

“I thought you weren’t going to tie me up,” Eliot said, but he did as he was told. The movement tightened things low in his belly; Quinn was playing things to perfection.

“I’m not,” the other man said, climbing up on the bed with Eliot. “This way makes my point so much better.” He let his gaze roam the length of Eliot’s naked body, lingering for a long moment on his hard cock. “Oh stop,” he went on, when Eliot scowled at him. “You’ve already lost the argument. If you really want me to prove it, we can still do that.” He grabbed Eliot’s ankles and pushed his legs up and apart. “I get off either way.”

Eliot couldn’t quiet the rebellious part of his brain that still wanted to fight Quinn’s control, but the rest of him relaxed, anticipating the feel of the other man’s cock pushing into him. _He’s right._ It was a little ridiculous fighting now, when he’d done everything except actively beg Quinn to fuck him.

In the end he submitted, and Quinn took him inch by torturous inch – his first stroke so slow and controlled Eliot was openly writhing by the time he bottomed out. “Calm down,” Quinn murmured, leaning down and kissing him thoroughly. Moaning, Eliot arched up into the press of his lips – mouth opening so Quinn’s tongue could stroke the length of his.

“So tight,” Quinn whispered, licking at Eliot’s lips. Before Eliot could respond, he rocked his hips back and thrust forward as hard as he could. Eliot tightened his grip on the headboard, pushing back automatically into the stroke. “You’re gonna feel so good when I let you come.”

He hadn’t lied. Quinn never lied. He was noticeably thicker than Nate, and after the first few strokes, he wasn’t taking it easy on Eliot either. His thrusts were hard and fast, but always smooth and absolutely controlled. Eliot’s hands flexed against the headboard as he rode out the rising surge of pleasure being forced through him.

“I wish you could see yourself,” Quinn said. Eliot was pleased to see a sheen of sweat on the other man’s skin, and hear the occasional hitch in his breathing. “Being controlled suits you.” Eliot surged up in response, kissing him again.

He had no idea how long Quinn drew things out, but he was trembling, sweating, and on the verge of begging the other man for release by the time Quinn wrapped his hand around Eliot’s cock. “Come for me boy.” Quinn’s voice was breathless now too – Eliot could feel how close he was.

The two of them lasted another half-dozen strokes, before Eliot went rigid – thick strands of come spilling out over Quinn’s fist and onto Eliot’s stomach. Quinn cried out a moment later, shoving hard into Eliot as he came. They stayed locked together for several moments, riding out the waves of orgasm that had taken them both.

“Damn,” Eliot moaned, wincing as Quinn finally pulled free.

“Yeah,” Quinn laughed shakily, shifting until he collapsed on his side next to Eliot. He paused, looking above Eliot’s head. “You can let go now, you know.”

Eliot glanced up, dimly registering that his hands were still gripping the headboard. He tried letting go, but his brain seemed to have completely disconnected from his nervous system. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

It took Quinn a moment to realize what he was saying. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the hitter groaned, rolling his eyes. Hitching himself higher on the bed, he helped Eliot release his hold on the metal bar and lower his arms. “You’re high maintenance, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Bite me,” Eliot snapped weakly. “I’m totally worth it.”


End file.
